Gemotions

The old garage was a mess, but a beautiful one in Elias’s eyes. He ran a hand over his face, leaving a smear of grease on his cheek. The patent. The sinking feeling in his stomach was quickly replaced by something else, something akin to a bubbling spring. He had the idea for a self-repairing tire; it was genius! And someone had already beat him to the punch. He grabbed a wrench and began tearing apart an old car tire, his movements swift and sure. He would make it more efficient, more durable. He *would*.